


A Tenner For The Powder Room

by comebackjessica



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Ada Is A National Treasure, Alfie Does What He Wants, Alternate Universe, Begrudgingly Budding Romance, Bisexual Disaster Tommy Shelby, Crazy scheme, Crossdressing, Drama, Emotionally Constipated Grown-Ass Adult Men, F/F, Humor, M/M, Plotting, Revenge, Romance, Sabini Is a Sleaze, love at first snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-07 12:59:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17961008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comebackjessica/pseuds/comebackjessica
Summary: One thing Tommy could trust is that life would never be the same with Alfie Solomons in it. Who else would come to his house at two in the morning, bang on the door, insult his sister and try to convince Tommy that dressing up as a woman was the only solution to get rid of their Sabini problem once and for all? It doesn't help that Polly thinks the idea bloody ingenious.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> During one of those crazy conversations, @When_Tommy_Met_Alfie threw this little gem at me: "Why has no one written a fic where Tommy and Alfie have some dumb scheme that makes it SUPER necessary for Tommy to be in drag while they go to some club?"
> 
> Your wish is my command, so here it is! Thank you for this brilliant idea, and also big thank you to @Vamillepudding for fixing that one crazy-ass sentence I was really struggling with, you're a star!
> 
> Title inspired by "Breakfast At Tiffany's"

©Mad Books Publishing House, Ltd., 2019

Information, Alfie decided, was just about the only thing in this business currently helping him hold his head above the water. One might say it could be reckless then, to share said information with just anyone. Alfie would have argued that a rather ridiculous scheme was forming in his head already, so time was pretty much of the essence here, thanks very much. His informant had sung. Alfie, never one to sit idly around, had waited exactly 7 minutes before he had gotten in his car and driven straight to Birmingham. And now here he was, as a result of his brain not wanting to shut the hell up, banging on the Shelby household door at two in the fucking morning. 

The door finally blew open and a very annoyed young woman in a dressing gown greeted him with a scowl.

“Are you fucking insane?!”

Alfie furrowed his brows, contemplating the question. They hospitalized him once, so he knew he fucking wasn’t. No time to treat those actually mad, Alfie had always thought, but torturing a little boy who liked cock with electric current, now that’s science, innit?

“Where’s Tommy?” He asked, taking a step closer without any sort of invitation on her part.

The woman behind him repeated her doubts with a grimace of exasperation:

“Do you know what time it is?!”

Alfie knew and shared the information, which resulted in even more annoyance on her part.

“Get in your bloody car and go back wherever the hell you came from, or I’ll shoot you!” True to her word, she pointed a small revolver to his head.

Alfie hummed to himself and looked straight into the barrel of the gun.

“You must be the sister,” Alfie smirked, before stepping over the threshold and completely ignoring her still pointing the gun at him. “I’m your brother’s business partner and currently his only fucking ally in this fucking mess with Derby, right, so if you don’t mind–”

“What?” Unprepared for this sort of reaction, Ada lowered the revolver. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going? Get out of my house!”

Alfie grunted in annoyance, as if she were the intruder, and followed the dark, narrow corridor into the tiny living room. Two people sat in the nearby armchairs, undoubtedly the other members of the Shelby clan – The Formidable Mustache, Alfie determined, and The Scrutinizing Glower From Hell. 

“Who the fuck are you?” Despite the angry words, The Scrutinizing Glower From Hell asked him this calmly, before taking a sip of her whiskey.

“Some cockney bastard with a death wish is who he is!” The younger woman sat on the faded couch, still pointing her gun to Alfie. “Says he wants to talk to Tommy ‘cause they do business in London.”

“Alfie Solomons, then.” The Scrutinizing Glower From Hell smirked to herself and finished her drink in one smooth gulp. “Forgive us this rather casual attire, Mr. Solomons, but this is an unusual time for a visit. We are not entertaining tonight.”

Alfie gave a low groan instead of a full answer. He eyed her suspiciously, while the sister played with the safety catch.

“Right, that makes you the aunt.” Alfie pointed his cane at the other man. “So which one are you?”

“Arthur. I’m the eldest.” Arthur straightened up in his seat. “And Pol’s right, you can talk to him tomorrow. Once he gets better, yeah?”

“I’m Ada, not that anyone’s asked.” The young woman said, eyeing Alfie inquisitively. “So you’re the mad gangster from the bakery.” She grinned evilly. 

Alfie sieved through all he did not like and focused solely on the fact that apparently, Tommy had talked about their meeting in London. Whatever he said, he talked about meeting him. Alfie took that information, folded it neatly and put away for later use. 

“No talking to him tonight, Mr. Solomons. Best you leave now.” Arthur was surprisingly cordial about the whole ordeal, which caused Alfie to believe he also knew very well who Alfie was. Good. Reputation was, after all, everything in this business.

“The issue here is, right, that I bring important fucking news.” Alfie sat on one of the dining chairs without being asked to and placed his gloves and hat on the table. “Crucial, even. Now, I’ve given this some thought.” A bold lie. “This information cannot fucking wait. Now if we want–”

A loud thud coming from the upper floor interrupted his rant.

“All right, that’s that.” Alfie stood up and before anyone could stop him, he went upstairs. 

There, in a dimly lit cramped bedroom, he found the man he was looking for, though not in the state Alfie had been prepared to deal with. Polly followed him upstairs, though she wasn’t as hasty about it.

“Right, what the hell is wrong with him?” Alfie pointed to Tommy, who was currently sweating, sighing and cuddling one of the pillows in his arms. He looked like an animal in heat.

“What isn’t?” she said. Obviously, this wasn’t the first time the Shelby’s had to keep watch over Tommy.

Alfie approached the narrow bed. He poked Tommy’s bottom with his cane, resulting in him giving another soft moan. That sound, Alfie was not proud to admit, went straight to his cock. What’s a man to do, though, when a creature like that walks into one’s life, bruised and bloody, and makes demands as if he owned Alfie, Alfie’s warehouses and all of fucking Camden, too, while he was at it. What kind of business is that, Alfie wondered, and how is a man of his particular palate supposed to ignore what was happening now before him? Definitely should have shot him, could’ve saved himself some trouble. Missed that train, though. Now, he wasn’t only  _ in _ , he was balls deep in Tommy Shelby’s nonsense and had no desire to pull out.

“Opium, eh?” Alfie scratched his beard. “Should have known he liked chasing dragons, that silly boy.” 

He had a low attention span, so after a while, he decided:

“Tea would’ve been nice, though.” Alfie went back downstairs, searching for the kitchen, ignoring any social convention. He treated this as a business call, after all, so he felt entitled to wait for Tommy to sober up. Polly snorted when he left and followed him downstairs. She went back to the living room and picked up her whiskey glass, then looked at Ada and Arthur sternly. 

“Go get some sleep, you two. I’ll take it from here.”

“No fucking way, I ain’t leaving you with him!”

“Arthur.” There was a dangerous change in Polly’s tone. “I’m serious. Go.”

“You sure?” Arthur knew they had to tolerate Solomons since obviously, he did what he wanted anyway but truth be told, he realized now that the Peaky Blinders were way in over their heads with this mad bastard.

“Oh, I’m sure.” A wicked glint appeared in Polly’s eyes. “I have Mr. Solomons to keep watch with me, now don’t I?”

Ada cleared her throat and gave Polly the revolver, before going to her room. 

“Shout out if you need me to help you bury the body, yeah?” Arthur was still reluctant to go but finally, he followed his sister.

Polly went back downstairs. As soon as she reached the main corridor, she heard a clunk in the kitchen. To her surprise, Alfie remained true to his intentions and was now in the middle of preparing actual bloody tea. It was obvious he knew his way around the kitchen, which made Polly wonder about the whole “baker” ordeal. She needed to know more, so she cautiously entered the kitchen as if she were a guest in her own house – seemed like Alfie had a tendency to incite that feeling in people.

“Are you going to share your plan?” Polly sat at the table. She took a hip flask out her dressing gown pocket and refilled her glass.

Alfie sat in front of her and poured himself tea. He made a gesture like he wanted to offer her a cup but changed his mind once he saw the whiskey. This bloody family…

“The plan is simple. We dress up, go out and we kill Sabini,” Alfie said, dead-serious. He drank his tea, the teacup ridiculously small in his bejeweled, large hands.

Polly didn’t even blink. She looked at him with the same discerning smirk and swirled the glass before taking a sip.

“I thought you solved your Sabini problem. With our support and the men who volunteered for the bakery,” she said.

“That was before, right? And now is now. And now I know his secrets.” Alfie tapped his temple. “And revenge is very important for my people.”

Polly snorted and said nothing. They sipped their drinks in silence, unnecessarily awake in the otherwise snoring household.

“Let’s say we do this.” Feeling herself becoming gradually less alert, Polly decided to indulge the crazy man to keep herself from sleeping. “What do you mean by ‘dress up’?”

Alfie, enjoying the attention, leaned back on the creaky kitchen sofa. Seemed like he was enjoying their talk very much, despite the unusual circumstances.

“Derby’s been a fuckin’ dead man walking since before the war. My mistake, that, not fixing the situation.” He grunted as if agreeing with someone who wasn’t there. “Point is now, right, that now he knows somethin’ and I know somethin’, too. And I intend to use mine before he uses his.”

“Use what?” Polly cocked one eyebrow. “Is that why you invited Tommy to negotiate with you? To use us for your past vendettas? Because let me tell you now, it would be a stupid-ass idea.”

Alfie looked at her with sheer moral outrage.

“Who do you take me for, Mrs. Shelby?”

“Gray.” She finished her whiskey. “Seems you’re not as well informed as you would like to be, Mr. Solomons.”

“Damn. Seems so.” Alfie scratched his beard, giving her a sly look.

“Indeed.” Her dark eyes seemed even darker now. “Is that where you propose we do something else with the time on our hands?”

“Nah.” For the first time this evening, Alfie actually smiled. Not smirked, not grimaced, he gave her an honest smile. “In another lifetime, maybe. But like I keep telling your nephew, I’m a complete fuckin’ sodomite.”

He was testing her now, she knew that, so she said nothing and nodded politely as if they were exchanging news about the weather and not plotting.

“Very well.” She had finished her whiskey, so now she gestured towards the teapot. “Pour me some tea. Let’s hear about that scheme, shall we?”

 

* * *

 

When Tommy finally woke up from his high, he came to the kitchen to fix himself something to eat. After seeing who was sipping tea at the table, however, his whole breakfast plan came to a halt.

“Mornin’, Tommy.” Alfie greeted him with an innocent smile, while Polly, now sitting beside him on the sofa, desperately tried to contain her laughter at the anecdote Alfie had just finished telling. The bizarre scene made Tommy seriously doubt his sobriety.

“What are you doing here?” He barked.

“Calm down, Queen of Chinatown. Just havin’ some tea.”

Tommy turned the questioning look towards Polly, who seemed unfazed by the whole thing and poured another cup for Tommy. She pushed it towards him and he finally sat down, lighting his first cigarette of the day.

“We were keeping watch,” Polly said, a smile still lingering at the corners of her lips.

“Watch?” Tommy raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “What the hell for, Pol?”

“Cause you been acting all whimperin’ and sweaty, and high as a fuckin’ kite on opium so maybe that’s what for,” Alfie said.

Tommy said nothing, just sucked more smoke in and held it in his mouth.

“Never took you for a preacher, Alfie.”

“No, I ain’t. But what I have to tell you is pretty fucking important, yeah? And I ain’t used to waitin’.” Alfie fixed his wide-eyed gaze on Tommy. “Not to mention, Tommy, we don’t have all day. In fact, today is kinda the ‘now or never’ type of ordeal, believe it or not, so I would like to finally talk business, since you’ve graced us with your delightful fuckin’ presence at four in the afternoon, yeah?”

Tommy drank his tea and lit another cigarette, still acting casually.

“Then talk,” he said coolly. “Pol, would you give us a minute?”

“Nah, she’s stayin’.” Alfie interrupted before she could describe all the exact ways in which Tommy should go fuck himself. “She had some good points earlier.”

“Fine.” Tommy shrugged as if this was the most conventional talk in his life. “Let’s hear it.”

“Right.” Alfie tugged lightly on his beard. “So the thing is, Tommy, there’s nothin’ good in this bloody town of yours. The place is a dump and the smells are ungodly–”

“Do you have a point there, Alfie?”

“Shut the fuck up. So, as I was saying, let us take the fuckin’ hydra, right? Now, according to the mythology, at first, there was just one head, just one creature with one head, easy as you please, skippin’ around some Greek island. And then some moron with a knife, right, he had to mess with it. So it sprung another head, and another, and another until he shat his fuckin’ pantaloons and it ate him. So what I mean is, Tommy, this fuckin’ town had grown another fuckin’ head.”

Tommy raised his eyebrows. The point he was waiting for never came.

“There’s a secret joint here in Birmingham, Tommy,” Polly interrupted, having felt the level of nonsense reaching its limits. “Sabini’s going to be there tonight. Alone. Nobody knows about this, except us and him.”

Alfie gave her a look that was positively wounded. She just ruined his whole story.

“Why is that?” Tommy poured himself another cup of tea. “He’s never alone.”

“Because,” Alfie leaned over the table, looking Tommy deep in the eye. “This time he’s protectin’ his dirty secrets, yeah? Secrets he’s worked fuckin’ hard to hide.”

“He likes them pretty boys even prettier,” Polly interjected again. “In dresses and girdles,” she explained after Tommy had given her a confused look.

“Right,” Tommy smirked and took a sip of his tea. “I thought you two were old friends, Alfie. How come you never knew this?”

“‘Cause once he beat me to a bloody pulp with his mates for kissin’ him after school, yeah? That might have given me the wrong idea.” Alfie narrowed his eyes. “So. Apart from calling me a dirty Jew and a faggot, right, he also left me a scar.” He pointed to his jaw where a patch of beard was missing.

“Hm.” Tommy lit another cigarette. “How did you come across that convenient information, then?”

“You don’t wanna know.” 

“On the contrary.” Tommy inhaled the smoke and shook his head. “That’s a pretty reckless plan you got there, Alfie. We cannot attack a joint and just take him out. His people would be on our tails before he reached room temperature.”

“Ah! But we ain’t ridin’ the joint, Tommy. We send one man inside, accompanied by my own handsome self.”

“You just said it’s a club for–” Tommy hesitated but then the realization sank in. “Fuck.”

“Yeah.” Alfie seemed very pleased with himself, the bastard. “Told ya he liked them boys pretty. And you’re the prettiest boy I know, so – we dress up, we go out, and we take out Sabini. Then live happily ever after, probably.”

Tommy shook his head and snorted. 

“No fuckin’ way, Alfie. That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

“You don’t know me that long, mate.” Alfie gave him a smug look. “And this is the best fuckin’ plan we could’ve hoped for.”

“Think about it, Tommy.” Polly’s penetrating gaze was back on her nephew. “Sabini will be there, completely alone. Incognito. He is not expecting this, what he expects is to get drunk and have his cock sucked. So what if you have to put on a little makeup and Ada’s frock? He’ll be out of our hair and his men, well, running around like headless chickens.” A dangerous shadow ran through her face, which made Tommy honestly question his own sanity because what she just said made a lot of sense. He put out his cigarette and shook his head.

“There’s no way I’m gonna pass for a girl.”

“That’s the thing, Tommy, this isn’t the point.” Polly took his hand across the table. “It’s about him liking men who dress up as women, however this may sound.”

Tommy snorted again.

“This’ll never work. He knows what I look like.”

“Not after Ada’s done with you.” Polly’s grin was positively wicked.

“Why the fuck are we involving Ada?” Now, Tommy was sort of panicked. His sister was not only his best friend and harshest critic but also the one person who could make fun of him and live.

“Because she’s the only one who owns an actual wig,” Polly explained nonchalantly.

 

* * *

 

So there he was, Tommy thought, sitting in a yellow dress in his own fucking bathroom, legs shaved, stockings in place, and with body parts itching where he would’ve never suspected. 

“Stop fucking moving or I’ll stab you in the eye!” Ada stood before him with a black eye pencil in one hand and an eyelash curler in the other. “Close your eyes and think of Ireland,” she muttered, before resuming the work on her brother’s makeup.

Tommy grunted as she attacked his eyelids again. The most problematic part, however, was the fact that this whole process wasn’t all unpleasant. Slow brush strokes and powder puff pads on his face felt like a delicate massage, Tommy thought. If this wasn’t so utterly humiliating, even for the good old revenge and the future of his business, he might have enjoyed it. 

“Now don’t move.” Ada rummaged in her makeup case and took out two lipsticks, one red and one pink. She considered both equally carefully before choosing the pink one. She squinted and applied it evenly on Tommy’s lips, ignoring the death stares he gave her. 

“Stop fucking glaring at me, we used to do this all the time when I was little.” Ada took a step back, admiring her handiwork. “That ridiculous man’s right, though, you know. You are the prettiest boy!” She giggled and then yelped, still laughing, when Tommy poked her ribs.

“Okay, now seriously be still, ‘cause I’ll be using glue and pins and I don’t wanna hurt you.” She put a blond wig on him and positioned it in place with utmost precision. When the wig was done, Ada examined the makeup closely one more time before she deemed the work completed.

“All right, you can look now, Agnes Ayres.”

Tommy sighed dramatically and turned around towards the bathroom mirror. He blinked slowly for a while before muttering:

“I look like mum.”

Ada raised one eyebrow.

“You know... You actually do look like one of her pictures, the one on the beach.”

Tommy cleared his throat and said nothing more. He was in desperate need of a cigarette. He kept telling himself that this whole ordeal was to get revenge on Sabini, for beating him senseless, for cutting into his mouth, basically, for breathing down his neck every time Tommy found himself visiting London. And still… This felt odd, mostly because he was in equal parts ashamed and strangely excited.

“Fuckin’ hell, Tommy.” The voice Tommy was not prepared to hear right now sounded from the corridor. Alfie was leaning on the bathroom door nonchalantly, taking in the sight before him. “You are fuckin’ gorgeous, you know that?”

“Fuck off and give me a cigarette,” Tommy barked.

Ada rolled her eyes and gave him her cigarette case and the elegant, slim lighter.

“For tonight,” she explained, before glowering at Alfie, in a way not unlike Polly’s One True Death Stare. “You’re coming with him?”

“Aye,” Alfie smirked, very pleased with himself. “Don’t you worry, I’ll keep him safe.”

“He can do that himself,” she snorted. “You can’t go like that.”

Alfie cocked one eyebrow.

“Yer callin’ me ugly, little miss?”

“I’m not little and I sure ain’t a miss.” She barked, squinting her eyes. “I’m talking about Sabini, he’ll recognize you on the spot.”

“I’ll wear a hat.”

Tommy was now looking from one to the other, smoking and finally enjoying himself.

“Even worse idea.” Ada pointed at his face. “The beard has to go. It enters the room five minutes before you do. And no hats.”

“Yer not shavin’ my beard!”

“Damn right I’m not! That’s fuckin’ disgusting.” From her makeup case, she produced a razor and a small pair of scissors, which she handed to Alfie before leaving the room.

Alfie and Tommy exchanged confused looks.

“I’m not shaving you, either, so don’t look at me like that.” Tommy sat back on the stool and handed Alfie a bar of soap.

“Fuckin’ great.” Alfie sighed and looked at the instruments before him as if they were medieval torture devices. He winced and shook his head, trying the scissors against a small part of his beard. He turned to Tommy before cutting it, his eyes slits, full of suspicion. “Are you gonna watch me do it?”

Tommy shrugged and smiled positively viciously.

“You made me wear a dress, it’s only fair I watch you humiliate yourself.” Tommy crossed his legs surprisingly gracefully as if he’d been doing nothing more but host tea parties and fix his lipstick all his life. The only thing ruining the picture, Alfie decided, was the way Tommy smoked: aggressively, holding the cigarette between his thumb and his index finger.

“Hold it like this.” He put the scissors down and fixed the cigarette in Tommy’s fingers. “You look like you’re sucking cock when you hold it your way.” He grumbled.

Tommy raised his eyebrows.

“And you’re complaining why, exactly?”

“Shut the fuck up, Tommy.”

Alfie went back to cutting uneven patches of his beard until it was short enough to shave. He splashed water on his face, soaped his palms up and looked at himself in the mirror before proceeding. Tommy, still enjoying himself immensely, kept smiling like the demon he was, though now his smoking was properly lady-like. Alfie didn’t know what to think about all this... this man, laughing at him. He could forgive that like a goddamn idiot, too, because Tommy was all beautiful and graceful, at the reach of his hand and yet completely fucking unattainable. 

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself, spread the lather evenly on what was left of his once magnificent beard, and started shaving. He was careful and precise, and still not sure why Tommy had decided to watch him do this. Was he making sure Alfie wouldn’t cut himself or was he really appreciating the show? Who could tell, really, with an otherworldly creature like that? Once he was done, Alfie washed his face and neck. He looked at himself again, examining his face for any remaining beard parts. 

“God, fuck. I look like an infant.”

This time, Tommy said nothing. He lit another cigarette and blew the smoke straight at Alfie. Without all this facial hair, Alfie looked… well, not like himself. Bare, naked almost, and younger. Definitely less scary, too. Tommy wouldn’t be able to recognize him at first, let alone Sabini in, what Tommy hoped would be, a dimly lit pub. Tommy felt a rush of conflicting opinions about this look, so as per usual he shut off that part of his brain and concentrated on smoking. 

“Do something with the hair, too. Fucking comb it at least.” He said, before leaving the bathroom.

Alfie came downstairs after some time, having done with his hair all humanly possible. Polly sat in her favorite chair and watched him closely, while Ada poured all four of them a drink.

“Hope you’re happy,” Alfie barked, before swallowing his whiskey in one gulp.

“At least now we’re both fuckin’ uncomfortable, eh?” Tommy smirked and put on Polly’s coat after downing his whiskey in one go, too. “I thought you didn’t drink, Alfie.”

“I just suffered a tremendous loss, right, leave me the fuck alone.”

Tommy chuckled and decided to leave it. Besides, he didn’t want to give Alfie any more reasons to talk than strictly necessary. Truth be told, Tommy couldn’t stop looking at those gorgeous fucking lips, no longer hidden behind the shaggy beard. 

It was close to midnight, so they decided to be on their way. Alfie borrowed Arthur’s grey jacket instead of putting on his usual gravedigger coat and was about to leave but Tommy clearing his throat loudly stopped him in his tracks.

“Aren’t you gonna offer me your arm, then?”

Tommy was just enjoying seeing him completely dumbfounded, Alfie decided. That was it. Ignoring Polly’s snort and Ada’s ill-concealed squeal, Alfie moved out of the way, ushering Tommy first out the door, and offered his arm once they stepped outside. Tommy took it as if this was the most natural situation he had ever found himself in, though despite his cool composure, he was thoroughly terrified. As it turned out, however, the poorly lit streets of Birmingham were exactly what they needed for this crazy operation to succeed. After walking a couple of blocks, Tommy realized that nobody was looking at them anyway, at least not the way he had expected. An occasional appreciative male gaze at his legs was all he got, so he relaxed a little bit and leaned onto Alfie. Those shoes were killing him, he told himself. They must have looked like just another ordinary couple looking for a pub on a Saturday night. Alfie considered this for a second, still in disbelief that for the first time in his life he was able to openly walk down the street with a beautiful man on his arm.

“Have you thought about the way yer gonna do it?” Alfie asked when they left Tommy’s district and turned their steps towards the river.

Having concealed two hunting knives in his clothing, Tommy’s heart was pretty much set on a close and personal stabbing.

“I’ll think of something,” he said vaguely. Alfie was leading him along the river, further away from the streets and civilization. Tommy realized they were walking towards the docks. “If all of this was to get me alone with you and choke me under the bridge, Alfie, then I am impressed.”

“Sure, mate. If that’s your thing, I’ll happily accommodate your lil’ fantasies after we’re done.”

Feeling defeated in this little game, Tommy harrumphed and let Alfie get away with this one. They walked in silence for a while before Tommy’s patience towards this uncomfortable fucking costume had completely run out.

“Alright, don’t look now.” Tommy let go of Alfie’s arm and stepped under the bridge, into the shadows.

“What?”

“I said don’t fucking look, I’m rearranging my fucking balls if you really must know, alright? This bitch of a dress is bloody uncomfortable, let me tell ya.” 

Alfie chuckled and gave no indication of not trying to get a glimpse of Tommy’s business.

“You’re a fucking pervert, Alfie.” Tommy barked after they resumed their walk.

“Happens to the best of us, mate.” 

This time Tommy did not take the arm offered to him. He lit a cigarette and looked the other way.

“Do you even know where we’re going? It’s been an hour.”

“Half, actually, but it’s nice to know yer enjoying my company so fuckin’ much.”

“Just… tell me we’re close ‘cause I need to take a leak and I’m not sure I’ll be able to put all of this together if I can’t fucking see anything, yeah?”

After careful consideration, Alfie decided that, despite the tragic loss of his beard, so far this has been the best idea ever.

“Right, we’re here.”

They reached the end of the canal and were now nearly by the docks. Gentle splashes of water and creaking of the ships managed to calm Tommy down, even if just a little. In the slimy stone wall under the last bridge, there was a big, rusty door that Tommy never would have noticed were it not for Alfie knocking on it in some sort of weird code. And wouldn’t you know it, the door actually opened, with an infernal creak.

“Be quick about it,” said the voice behind it. 

Alfie grabbed Tommy’s hand and lead him downstairs into the darkness. At that moment, Tommy found himself seriously re-evaluating all of his stupid-ass life choices, namely this one. Why the fuck did he trust the man people quite openly called “mad”, he had no idea, nor was he able to pinpoint the exact moment when he agreed to this fucking scheme in the first place. Why did he have to be born into a family of maniacs, too, he wondered, until finally, the stairs lead them into another dark corridor, at the end of which was what looked like an old-fashioned door, painted bright red.

“If you try to kill me, remember I’ll kill you first,” Tommy grumbled into Alfie’s ear, trying to adjust his eyes to the lack of light.

“Your wish is my command, darling,” Alfie said in that deep, raspy tone he used just to annoy him (Tommy was sure of this), and opened the door.

Tommy stepped first into what looked like a dark, smokey pub, at least he thought so since the smell of perfume, liquor, and tobacco was overwhelming. After adjusting to the darkness, Tommy went to straight for the bar, leaving Alfie behind. That was good instinct all in all since he was supposed to find Sabini and lure him in, and sticking with… well, “a boyfriend”, would’ve killed the point. At least that’s what both of them told themselves, leaning over the opposite ends of the bar. There was no music, though why would there be since this place was obviously kept secret at all cost. The patrons talked in hushed voices, hiding in the shadows, obviously enjoying the privacy. Tommy ordered himself a glass of wine, staying true to his new persona, and looked around not without interest. As it turns out, this time Solomons was pretty damn right about the whole thing. Trying not to think about being underground and in the dark, Tommy passed the time by looking at people. And those were sights to behold, he decided after a while. To be honest, some men were wearing heels better than some women Tommy had seen, not to mention some looked way better in dresses.

“And who might you be, darling?” Tommy would recognize that smarmy, wheedling tone anywhere and with his eyes closed, too. Which wouldn’t make much of a difference, to be honest, with how dark this joint was.

A sudden realization reached Tommy, as he gave Sabini a dazzling smile and took a sip of his wine, trying not to wince. Sabini would know his fucking voice, for crying out loud. That was the part neither him, nor Alfie had thought through, fuck it all to hell. Could he make it higher? Damn, he could try but that seemed too dangerous, so he smacked his lips seductively and made use of those long lashes Mother Nature gave him.

“Good God, you’re gorgeous... What is your name, precious?” Sabini leaned on the bar and looked at Tommy, in a way that apparently was supposed to be alluring.

Tommy almost choked on his wine. Honestly, if he hadn’t wanted to kill that asshole so badly, he would have felt sorry for him. That, as far as seductions went, was pitiful. Tommy took another sip, desperately trying to figure out how to set things in motion without talking. His hand instinctively reached into his purse and he took out Ada’s cigarette case.

“Please, darling, allow me.” Sabini lit a match and leaned towards Tommy, lighting his cigarette.

Tommy hummed appreciatively and smiled again, rocking his hips a little bit in a way he hoped was encouraging. He was honestly doing his fucking best so this crazy scheme better works, God damn it. It was working alright, just not in the way Tommy had anticipated. On the other side of the bar, Alfie was honestly fuming. Watching Tommy putting on a show the way he did was one thing but watching him seducing this asswipe was something else entirely. Feeling particularly uneasy, Alfie ordered a large whiskey and was now sipping it while looking daggers at Sabini across the room.

“I haven’t seen you here before, kitten. Who are you?” Sabini smoothed out his dark mustache, positively lustful.

Tommy, in a slight panic, was now basically considering trying the higher pitch or stabbing the bastard then and there. Fortunately, the bartender chose this very moment to approach them. He whispered something to Sabini, who obviously didn’t appreciate this interruption.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake…” He rolled his eyes and scowled at the bartender. “Fine!” He looked back at Tommy and handled him a banknote. “A tenner for the powder room, sweetness. Now, don’t go anywhere, alright?” He winked and disappeared through the door behind the bar. 

“Good job, you scared him off,” Alfie murmured straight into his ear, appearing behind him like a ghost. “Couldn’t bear to be nice even for a second?”

“Jesus Christ!” Tommy hissed and turned around, scanning the room for any curious eyes. “What the fuck are you doing, he might be back any minute!” At this point, he was whispering, not even trying to conceal his anxiety.

“He gave you money?” Alfie scowled, not really listening at this point. “Fuck’s sake, what a schmuck.”

Tommy raised one eyebrow and put the banknote in the front pocket of Alfie’s jacket.

“There. Now fuckin’ go, alright?”

Alfie finished his whiskey and ignored Tommy’s orders. Making Alfie do anything, Tommy decided, was like herding cats. So they just stood there looking at each other, both unwilling to budge. Tommy couldn’t help himself and for a minute there focused at Alfie’s mouth, watching it move and twist in those damn smirks of his. How come he never noticed it before? As if reading his mind, Alfie licked the whiskey from his lips and grunted deeply in appreciation. He could feel Tommy watching him and apparently that suited him just fine.

“Fuck,” Tommy muttered to himself, feeling defeated. “I really got this, alright? Go the fuck away.”

“Doesn’t look like it, to be honest.” He looked over Tommy’s shoulder to check if Sabini was coming back. He wasn’t, so Alfie leaned closer. He smelled clean, Tommy thought, like… soap and spicy dark rum, and God was that smell refreshing in that stuffy shithole. His eyes must have wandered because Alfie’s smile widened and he felt cocky enough to move closer.

“What. The fuck.” Tommy was panicking, now for entirely different reasons. Alfie was too close and too…  _ friendly _ in his doings. Tommy didn’t know how to react to Alfie who didn’t want to shoot him. “Go back to your fucking corner and let me handle this,” he hissed, looking around once again.

“You know, his pitiful dance around you might work on a whore but…” Alfie gave out a low groan. “Not on someone like you.”

“What the fuck are you on about?” 

“Not how I would’ve done it. Seems he remained the same sleazy rat he’s always been in this department.”

“Alfie. Fuck’s sake. Not the time, not the fucking place.” Tommy finished the wine. “Go the fuck away before he comes back and all of this goes to hell, yeah?”

Alfie gave him another cheeky smile before he hummed and turned away, walking back to his hiding place at the other end of the bar. 

“Fuck,” Tommy growled under his breath, lighting another cigarette. 

Out of all possible business partners, he had to be picked by the maddest one. His life, at this point, was a joke. A one big Wearing-Stockings-Balls-Squished-Itchy-Legs-And-Pink-Lipstick fucking carnival.

“What’s that, darling?” Sabini emerged from behind the bar, holding a bottle of champagne. 

Tommy sighed and did his best to give him a convincing smile.

“That’s my girl. Here.” He gave Tommy the bottle and lead him to the more secluded area of the pub, into a very cozy lodge hidden behind a red curtain. Everything in it was red, in fact, from the pillows and carpets to the armchairs. That was fucking lucky, Tommy decided. 

“So, you never told me your name. Now I promise you, sweetheart, I’m a very discreet man–” The monologue was interrupted when Tommy swiftly turned on his heel and buried a large knife right into Sabini’s rib cage. Tommy smiled viciously, now holding the sleaze closely as he turned the knife. Sabini groaned desperately and gave out a tell-telling wheeze. With his free hand, Tommy shook the champagne and as the cork popped with a loud bang, he stuck his knife deeper and twisted again.

“D’you realize who I am, Mr. Sabini?” He murmured into the Italian’s ear, stroking his hair mockingly. “I think you do. Now, see how much  _ I  _ know about you?” He said, before taking the knife out and letting the blood flow freely.

Tommy sighed and took a large sip of the champagne, watching the bastard fall to the floor. Not bad, he decided, before placing the bottle back on the table and cleaning his knife on Sabini’s striped jacket. When he emerged from the lodge, his red right hand, dripping with blood, was safely hidden in the coat pocket along with the knife. He walked confidently through the room and opened the door, turning towards the stairs. Adrenaline helped him focus, it helped him breathe, though he felt like himself again only when he finally went outside and fresh air hit his face. He stood there for a while, staring blankly at the docks before a strong hand grabbed his shoulder and quickly lead him away. Tommy growled at whoever was there, knife out and ready until he heard the familiar raspy voice:

“Fuck! It’s me, you mad bastard. Stop fuckin’ standin’ like a loon and start walkin’.”

Alfie pulled him closer and lead away from the club. When they reached the canals, Alfie took the knife away from Tommy and threw it into the river. Tommy didn’t mind at this point. He felt lighter, more at ease. For the first time this night, he felt absolutely peaceful. He took a deep breath and squeezed Alfie’s hand firmly as they made their way back to Small Heath. Alfie was unusually quiet along the way, obviously deep in thought. No words were exchanged until Tommy’s head stopped buzzing and he remembered something Alfie had said that he was now very curious about:

“So how would you do it?” Tommy asked, reaching into his pocket for cigarettes.

“No idea, honestly, but the knife seemed like a good move, I’ll give ya that.” Alfie, still amazed with this very public hand-holding situation, couldn’t really focus. 

“No, about Sabini’s pitiful seduction. You said you’d have done it differently. Tell me.”

Alfie shook his head and snorted softly, saying nothing. He took the cigarette out of Tommy’s mouth and took a couple of puffs.

“It’s probably three in the morning, Tommy.” He looked up. The sky was still dark, though the stars were already fading. He gave the cigarette back and Tommy sucked on it greedily.

“So?” He let out the smoke through his nose.

“So I have no idea what you’re talkin’ about.” Alfie squeezed Tommy’s hand a little tighter.

“Right.” 

Maybe it was the dress and the anonymity the whole look gave him, Tommy thought, or maybe he was still drunk from the revenge well orchestrated, who knows. Now he was curious and considering whatever the hell this was, this urge to test these waters. They walked the rest of the way in silence but once they reached Tommy’s street, he finally grew tired of the tension. He pushed Alfie against the nearest shop window and kissed him passionately. This gorgeous fucking mouth was finally on him and Tommy was drunk on the sensation. This wasn’t like France, he realized, this wasn’t about… Whatever it was, this was about sheer  _ need _ , not want. 

“You always this eager after killin’ a bloke?” Alfie murmured, slightly shocked but also very amused. 

“Fuck’s sake, Alfie.” Tommy gently bit that plush lower lip of his. God, this mouth. He was obsessed. “Do you. Ever. Fucking. Shut up?” He accentuated every dot with a kiss until Alfie indeed shut up and let him do whatever the hell he wanted. 

“So I guess you don’t miss the beard, then?” Alright, not quite. Seemed against his nature, after all, the idea of not talking. 

Tommy snorted into Alfie’s jacket and groaned against his chest, inhaling the smell of soap, rum, and spice that seemed to linger around the man at all times. Deep inside his own head, Tommy looked over Alfie’s shoulder, into their blurry reflection in the shop window.

“Fuck, we look hot together.”

Alfie turned around and put his arm around Tommy, pulling him back against his chest.

“I’d still argue I prefer you without the dress, y’know?” He said to Tommy’s reflection, resting his chin on Tommy’s shoulder.

“I could be persuaded to take it off.”

“Always makin’ deals, eh?”

That was true, though for a minute a thought stuck at the back of Tommy’s head, that what Alfie was now seeing in him was the girl. That was quickly proven ridiculous, as Alfie basically dragged him back to the house and into Tommy’s bedroom. This time there was no-one in the living room and no curious eyes to watch them disappear behind closed doors. The dress, the wig and the rest of the outfit quickly landed on the floor. Alfie was done with all the garments surprisingly quickly. 

“You’ve done this before, huh?” Tommy couldn’t help but tease him a little, as he landed underneath Alfie on his narrow bed. 

Getting Alfie naked proved more difficult since he was now pressing Tommy onto the mattress and refused to let him move so much as an inch. Kisses were placed all over Tommy’s neck, shoulders, and stomach and Tommy couldn’t help but moan a little as Alfie reached his cock and placed an appreciative kiss on its base. Alfie spat on his palm and took Tommy in his hand, looking him straight in the eye as he stroked him, painfully slowly. Tommy’s head landed back on the pillow and he gave out another moan, this one more demanding. He raised his hips a little and exhaled heavily through his nose, before looking at Alfie with annoyance.

“Take your clothes off,” he barked.

Alfie stopped what he was doing and held Tommy by one shoulder, with his other hand he grabbed his balls firmly and gave them a squeeze. 

“You don’t make the rules here, Tommy.” Something dangerous in his voice made Tommy even harder. His cock twitched eagerly as Alfie returned to stroking him, up and down in slow, firm motion.

“This is fucking torture, speed up at least!” Tommy moved his hips and tried to sit up but Alfie pushed him back down and then those brilliant fucking lips were around his cock and Tommy’s mind turned into hot pulp.

He didn’t even know what he was saying now, he couldn’t focus long enough because God damn it, it turned out that Alfie could put that dirty mouth of his to good use after all. In all honesty, that blowjob put all the other Tommy’s had in his life to shame. It wasn’t just that this fucking gangster, this mad beast of a man was currently between his legs, sucking him off – well that, too – but  _ the way  _ he was doing it, how hot that mouth was, and the thing he did with the tongue, how he swirled it around the tip was…

“Oh,  _ fuck! _ ” Tommy grabbed Alfie by the hair and nearly screamed as he came. 

For the first time, Alfie gagged, not really prepared for Tommy to come this quickly. He decided to be nice, though, so he swallowed it all and gently pulled away. He wiped the rest with the back of his hand, now looking at what he’d done to Tommy and feeling incredibly proud. Tommy’s mind was finally silent, he could see that. One side of his face was buried in the pillow, hair stuck to his forehead and lipstick smeared around his mouth. With Tommy’s eyes closed, Alfie could see how long these lashes really were, how sharp the cheekbones. God, he was beautiful. He kissed Tommy’s sweaty brow softly and licked his neck, kind of like a very possessive dog.

“Alfie, what the fuck.” Tommy murmured, not completely back from his high, yet.

“I like how quiet yer head is, for once.” 

Tommy heard rustling, so he opened one eye. Alfie was finally undressing and what a view that was. Suddenly alert, Tommy watched as the other man removed his shirt. Alfie gave him another cheeky smile, as he unbuttoned his trousers. Tommy lifted himself on his elbows to face him and got a closer look at all of those scars, bullet wounds, and tattoos. And there were many tattoos, some of them pretty, some of them ridiculous, but there was also one in particular that caught Tommy’s attention. 

“That’s Russian,” he murmured, tracing the crooked letters “CK” on Alfie’s left forearm. The tattoo was old and faded, the letters stretched out indicating Alfie must’ve been very young when he got it. Or had it done to him.

“ _ Ssylno-Katorzhny _ ,” Alfie explained, his voice hinting a very dark undertone. “Mmm. Yeah. Hard labor convict.” He took his trousers and underwear off and turned his side towards Tommy. “And that one is for ‘Jew’.” On his right side, right on the ribs, there was a bent and angled star that was supposed to be the Star of David.

Tommy leaned closer and placed a tentative kiss there, not knowing what to say. He pulled Alfie back on top of himself and resumed exploring his mouth. Tommy opened his invitingly and sure enough, Alfie’s tongue grazed his, very slowly at first. They kissed for quite a long while, altering between hard and desperate, and then soft and deep. Tommy held Alfie close until the room turned lighter and he heard the first birds singing somewhere in the distance. Only then he felt like the long dream had ended and it was time to wake up. They laid side by side, facing each other, Alfie looking at him hesitantly, obviously re-visiting his own demons as Tommy grew more silent and more distant.

“How old were you?” Tommy finally asked, and to his surprise, Alfie chuckled; his laughter raspy and tired.

“Fifteen, when I escaped. Seventeen when I came to England.” Alfie pulled Tommy closer, trying to hush him and stop him from asking any more questions. So Tommy didn’t ask. Instead, he stroked Alfie’s back, not unlike he would when trying to calm down a horse. He pressed his hips against Alfie’s, searching for warmth. Tommy closed his eyes and rested his head against Alfie’s shoulder but of course, like all the other times before, Alfie had to interrupt the moment:

“Now, I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep, y’know…”

Tommy looked at him like an irritated cat – hair disheveled, lips swollen and ever-present dark circles under his eyes even more visible. Though, on the other hand, that might have been the eyeliner.

“Why, pray tell us?” Tommy barked.

Alfie laughed softly and kissed Tommy’s forehead.

“‘Cause the way you’re laying like this, right, you be pressing directly on my cock and it’s very fucking eager to answer your call.”

Tommy blinked a couple of times before snorting into Alfie’s neck, unable to contain himself. Alright, he had to admit, after having a deeper understanding of that man, Alfie was fucking hysterical.

“Yeah, don’t mind me, I’ll just be here… Thinking of something sad, maybe.” Alfie rambled, as Tommy’s torso shook with laughter. “Yeah, yeah, let it out, darling. Laugh at me, why don’t ya? I can take it, I’m old and tired.”

Tommy finally emerged from his hiding place, wiping tears from his eyes and really making an effort to compose himself. That situation was bizarre, this whole exchange, Alfie going down on him, the dress, the makeup, Sabini… Oh, fuck, Sabini. 

“Shh… Come out of that head of yours, Tommy.” A myriad of emotions must have run through Tommy’s face, from uncontrollable giggles to overthinking to business alert mode. “Hey. Look at me.” Alfie took his face in his rough, big hands, hands that could probably crush his jaw and break his neck if Alfie put his mind to it. Tommy swallowed hard and looked at him. “There you are.” 

“Yeah. There I am.” Tommy’s voice was different, his head obviously too small a space to contain all of the emotions he was going through. “We should get up and get ready.” He cleared his throat, trying to wiggle out of the tight embrace. 

“And what the fuck for?” Alfie let him slip away, though he knew he would come to regret it in just a few seconds.

“Sabini’s men. They will come,” Tommy said, matter-of-factly. He left the bed and opened the small dresser, looking for a clean shirt.

“Right.” Alfie looked around in search of his own clothes, feeling like a goddamn idiot. “You know they won’t come to you, though?” He put his shirt back on, buttoning it up so hastily that he skipped some.

Tommy looked at him questioningly. 

“They’ll know it was me.”

“No,” Alfie’s tone was patient but his movements erratic. “How the fuck would they know? They’ll come looking for me first.”

“Why you?” Tommy stopped what he was doing, feeling his heartbeat quicken and senses sharpen. This wasn’t a pleasant kind of excitement, he realized, that was the same kind of adrenaline rush he had felt just a few hours ago.

“‘Cause we had an arrangement, alright?” Alfie put his shoes back on and placed Arthur’s coat on the nearby chair.

“Arrangement?” Tommy’s voice was now ice-cold. “What arrangement, Alfie?”

Alfie cleared his throat and finally looked him straight in the eye.

“Camden arrangement, alright? My influence, his influence and you…”

“And me?” Tommy asked, slowly, his eyes calculating and positively vicious. 

“No offense, Tommy, but you’re a little fish in this fucking shark-infested sea, alright?” Alfie’s face went back to the grumpy, scowling mask.

God, Tommy thought, how could he have been so fucking stupid?!

“You wanted to double-cross me.” He realized. “You wanted to double-cross me, set me up, fuck me and then what, Alfie?!” The ice-cold composure was replaced by hot white fury. Tommy grabbed the nearest thing he could find, an empty beer bottle, and hurled it across the room. Alfie ducked at the very last moment.

“That… wasn’t part of my plan.” He pointed towards Tommy’s bed. “That. Hm.” He slowly stood up and looked at Tommy, trying to read him but couldn’t. “I figured, right, after he came to me, that I’d rather get rid of him than you, that’s all.”

“You’re a fucking liar and a fucking hypocrite, and now you have exactly two seconds to get the fuck out before I kill you!” 

Alfie knew Tommy was serious, the way his eyes glinted dangerously, so he did the only sensible thing and got out of the bedroom before another bottle smashed against the door.   
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so this has been an emotional rollercoaster and there WILL be another part, I promise! Just as soon as I catch my breath after what happened, believe me, I'm as surprised as you are... Till next time!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here is part 2, hope you guys enjoy and thank you so much for all the kudos, this fandom is the best! <3

 

The midnight sky over Camden was bright red. Fire and smoke extended as far as the eye could see, swallowing what was left of Alfie’s warehouses. The flames roared through the walls of the bakery and soon all the windows shattered, the old beams gave way and the rum finished the job. Shortly after, another floor collapsed with a terrifying outburst of broken glass and a swarm of sparks. Then, a loud explosion sent the remaining wood fragments, the glass shards and the fiery wooden bits flying all over the street. There was no stopping this, Alfie thought, observing the madness and the commotion with Cyril at his side. To burn a rum factory all you needed was a flame, no need to dissect that particular concept. Easiest thing in the world, really.

“Yeah, that’s rum for ya,” he said to the dog, lighting a cigarette. “World’s best accelerant.” As if to confirm that, another explosion sounded from the warehouse.

“Boss?” Ollie took off his cap and looked at Alfie, wide-eyed and uncertain. 

“Yeah, don’t look at me like that, y’know I’m quittin’ next week.” Contrary to his statement, Alfie sucked on the cigarette as if his life depended on it.

After France and the gas explosion that nearly blew him straight to the other side, smoking was out of the question for Alfie. And for a while, he obeyed the doctor’s orders, true that, but this... this was something else. The odor of burnt bodies and heavy smoke permeated the area, making it impossible to escape the implications of what exactly had happened inside. Alfie figured he might as well suffocate along his late workers.

“How many, Ollie?” He asked, absent-mindedly scratching Cyril’s large, soft ears.

“Seventeen, sir.”

“Fuck!” Alfie looked back at the bakery and lit another cigarette, as the last remaining floor fell. Someone in the street screamed and another piece of construction came tumbling down. 

“Alright, lads.” Alfie turned around to his men, those who managed to escape and for reasons unbeknownst to Alfie stood by his side as he watched his bakery burn away. His last remaining reason to get up in the morning, fuck it all to hell and back, was now nothing more than a lump of coal. “It’s been an honor, yeah?” He looked at each of them separately and nodded to himself. 

They looked at him, not knowing what to say to that. Alfie sighed heavily and threw the cigarette butt into the sewer.

“Go home. Nothing much for us to do here,” he barked at them and turned around.

Before he managed to reach the next alley, however, Ollie caught up with him and, catching his breath, asked:

“Boss, was is the Shelbys?” 

Alfie stopped and looked at the sky, muttering something to himself.

“Ollie, I could roll my eyes even further back but that’d be fuckin’ anatomically abnormal, so I won’t.” He looked at the younger man and sighed. “No, the Shelbys are up close and personal, Ollie. And that warehouse was their money, too.” Alfie patted his pockets for cigarettes. “Now, what I keep tellin’ ya? The dogs are smarter than the owners, Ollie. And the dog that did it is one vicious pup.”

“Boss, you… Are you saying you know who did it?” Ollie took out his own cigarettes and gave Alfie one. Alfie hummed appreciatively.

“Be a good lad, Ollie, and run a telegram in the morning. Them Shelbys should get the message first.”

“About the fire?”

Alfie looked at him, wide-eyed and obviously not in the mood for nonsense.

“No, Ollie, about the shit this one took on my lawn after breakfast.” He patted Cyril on the back of the neck. “Fuckin’ bomb, that, so maybe go and write to Tommy fuckin’ Shelby about that cleanin’ party, eh?”

Ollie smiled against his better judgment, hoping Alfie wouldn’t notice. He loved that crazy man, no matter what shit he threw at him. Even thinking about not working for him anymore was weirdly painful. Now that the warehouses were gone, he hoped Alfie would come with a new business scheme, and soon. Otherwise, his already boring life was going to get immensely depressing, too.

“You shouldn’t smoke, boss.”

“Aye, damn right, Ollie.” Alfie looked at the younger man closely. “Send that telegram. And not one word about that mad dog on the loose, you hear me?”

 

* * *

 

This family meeting, Finn decided, was an awfully quiet one. He was upstairs in Tommy’s bedroom, messing around with his straight razor and pretending to fight off imaginary coppers. Usually, Finn could hear his brothers screaming at each other during those meetings, so there was no point listening at the door. He could just stay upstairs and poke his nose into his brothers’ stuff, and would still be able to keep track on almost everything going on in the kitchen. This time, though, nobody was screaming, not even Arthur. That, Finn decided, could not have been a good sign.

“D’you reckon he did it himself?” John looked at the telegram as if it was about to jump off the table and bite him on the nose.

“He’s a mad bastard, he’s not stupid,” Polly said.

They all sat or stood around the kitchen table, with the telegram from Alfie Solomons laying in the middle. No-one dared to touch it after Tommy had read it out loud. 

“He didn’t,” Tommy said firmly. “That was his business, he had no reason to.”

“Maybe just to screw with us?” Ada wondered.

“He blew up half of Camden because Tommy had struck a nerve?” Polly snorted, while Tommy did his best to hide his face behind a wall of cigarette smoke.

“So then what, he thinks we had somethin’ to do with this?” Arthur asked, ready to strike should the occasion arise. “This why he sent that, to threaten us?”

“Don’t be daft, Arthur, he wouldn’t threaten us.” Ada pursed her lips and picked up the telegram to read it one more time. “Why did he send that, then? To be polite?” She murmured to herself.

“To screw with our heads, obviously!” Roared John.

“He’s not.” Tommy put his cigarette out. “Screwing with us, I mean. And he didn’t blow up his business, that is obvious.”

“And what makes you so sure?” Polly watched him closely but Tommy’s face remained the same blank facade he always used when he didn’t want his true feelings known.

“Only one person with a grudge big enough to do this.” Tommy furrowed his brow.

“You mean Sabini.” Polly took out a cigarette and tapped it lightly on the table to get rid of the excess tobacco.

“I’ll get Grandma’s ouija board, then.” Ada rolled her eyes and moved towards the stove to make more tea. She was never one for lengthy deliberations. Whenever a crisis struck, she had to keep her hands busy.

“We thought his men would be caught with their pants down,” Polly said to Tommy, her tone sharp as a razor. “What happened to that concept, Tommy?”

“We thought wrong.” Tommy remained still and poised but his head was fuming with all the possible scenarios. “Clearly someone stepped in his place. Now we just need to find out who before they come here and blow us all to pieces, alright?”

“Uh… Tommy?” John beckoned his brother towards the window. No further words were exchanged, however, as gunshots echoed outside.

Tommy grabbed his gun and looked at Polly, now forcing himself to think fast as the next shot went straight through their living room window. “Go get Jeremiah!” Tommy gave Polly his gun and took another one from the nearby kitchen cabinet. “Ada, get your gun and go get Uncle Charlie!” 

“Finn is–” Ada pointed towards the stairs.

“I’ll take Finn, you run!” Tommy pushed her and Polly further into the kitchen. “Now!” 

Tommy ran upstairs, as Polly and Ada evacuated through the kitchen window. Leaving the men behind, they each ran in two separate directions and hoped to make it on time.

“Finn!” Tommy ran upstairs while Arthur and John took cover in the bathroom, trying to take out any attackers from sniper positions. 

Arthur managed to shoot one guy before a fire of gunshots raided the ground floor. Someone kicked the door in, so the brothers did the only thing they could do – Arthur grabbed Finn while John and Tommy covered him from behind. They took out two Italians that tried to come upstairs and when the brothers reached Tommy’s bedroom window, they climbed up on the roof. John jumped first and helped Finn before they moved onto the next building to get a head start. Tommy stayed behind with Arthur, trying to get a glimpse of what exactly they were dealing with. 

A swarm of angry Italians in expensive suits raided their street, clearly prepared to take down anyone who dared to stick their nose out the door. As Tommy jumped after his brothers, he heard a familiar voice shouting after him:

“You’re mine, Thomas Shelby! You come back here, you fucking coward!”

 

* * *

 

“Don’t look at me like that, I ain’t happy with the idea, either.” 

Cyril whined and laid down at Alfie’s feet, looking at him with absolute anguish.

“Don’t… You just fuckin’ stop it, you whiny brat.” Alfie monitored the stove closely, trying not to burn their dinner. “Roasting this fucker was a fuckin’ bad idea and it’s takin’ forever, I give you that, but I’m hungry too, alright?” He looked at Cyril sternly. 

Unlike those dumb fucking people around him, his dog never bought his angry expressions. That is why whenever Alfie frowned angrily, Cyril would pat him with his enormous paw and lick his face, just like he did now. Alfie sighed and pretended to be annoyed.

“Yeah, yeah, you big fuckin’ softie, come on.” Alfie left the duck on the stove, deciding to give it more time. “Fuckin’ birds, givin’ me shit even when they’re dead…” He took Cyril’s leash from the hook by the door and put his shoes on. “Come on, you mad bastard, let’s go. Next time it’ll be nothin’ but boiled rice, I’m too fuckin’ hungry for that duck shit.”

They went for a walk, or rather: Alfie was lead by Cyril, as he smoked and got lost in his thoughts. His dog led him into the familiar alleys and stopped by the lampposts whose smell was, Alfie figured, most intriguing. 

“Sometimes I wonder about you,” Alfie grumbled when Cyril marked what must have been the twentieth building corner in a row. “How many insults can you leave for them other dogs, eh?”

Alfie always figured there was something in marking the territory that was a one big “fuck you” towards any other dog who sniffed the mark. As if to prove his point, Cyril scraped the pavement with his enormous paws and looked at Alfie triumphantly.

“Yeah, you showed them, alright. Atta boy.” Alfie patted Cyril’s back and was about to continue their walk but something caught his eye. It was a scrawny little child, watching him with full intent from the dark, narrow lane on the other side. The child noticed that it had been seen, or perhaps it was waiting for Alfie to spot him, and ran towards the gangster as fast as their tiny legs would take them. Always vigilant, Alfie took a step back but the child simply forced a ball of paper into his hand and scurried away, quick like an alley cat. Alfie unwrapped the paper carefully and read the message, his eyes getting wider and wider as he read.

“Fuckin’ hell.” He tugged Cyril’s leash to pull him away from another building corner the stubborn dog was about to piss on. “Come on. Time to get going. Yeah, I know, I don’t like it either but that stupid Shelby boy is gonna get himself killed, I fuckin’ swear… Fuck! Leave that fuckin’ rat alone, let’s go!”

 

* * *

 

The brothers made their way through the roofs unnoticed but didn’t dare to come back down before making sure the Italians on their tail were completely gone. When John gave the signal, they found a fire escape and managed to sneak into an empty alley without attracting any attention.

“Why the fuck does Georgie Sewell want to rip your head off?” John whispered, reloading his gun and looking over his shoulder.

“Why the fuck do you think?” Tommy barked, checking the other side of the building. “Alright, we’re clear. Arthur, how are we doing?”

Arthur grabbed Finn firmly by the shirt and gave him the small revolver he always kept strapped to his ankle, for emergencies. 

“You take that, boy, hold it with both hands and shoot at anyone you don’t know, alright?”

Finn took a sharp breath and nodded.

“Good lad.” Arthur reloaded his gun and gave Tommy the “good to go” nod. Tommy nodded in reply.

“Alright, gentlemen, let’s move before they pack our asses full of bullets.”

“I don’t know about this,” John sighed as he went first, with Arthur and Finn behind him and Tommy covering them at the back. “Shit!”

They almost opened fire at the men who came from the alley behind the old butcher’s shop, before they realized who was leading them. 

“Fuck, don’t shoot!” Jeremiah raised his hands up, while Polly pushed him aside and made her way towards her nephews.

“Fuck!” John lowered his gun and spat on the street, as Finn ran towards Polly. 

“Come with me.” She took the revolver from Finn and gave Jeremiah the shotgun she was holding. “Go. I’m gonna find Ada, she should have given the message to Charlie by now.”

“Alright, let’s do this!” Arthur roared and they all marched back to give the Italians a piece of their mind.

As soon as Georgie Sewell saw them, he yelled to open fire but Tommy and Jeremiah were faster. Two men on Georgie’s sides took a bullet straight to the head before the Shelbys hid behind the nearest building.

“Fuck!” Georgie crouched behind his car and tried to take out Tommy but he was now long gone from the frontline, currently busy butchering the poor bastard daft enough to attack him with a knife. Face dripping with someone else’s blood, Tommy plunged headfirst into the line of fire, his cap in the one hand and the trusty Browning in the other. He was too quick and too angry for anyone to stop him. Jeremiah and his boys covered Tommy and Arthur from behind, and soon Charlie and his men joined the fight, now seriously outnumbering what was left of Sabini’s gang.

Georgie slowly stood up from behind his car, as he watched Tommy blazing the trail for the rest of the Peaky Blinders. Tommy couldn’t see Georgie though, that much was obvious, so when he approached the car, the consigliere decided to take his shot — seemed like a good idea until a hand grenade exploded right behind him, shooting both his legs right up in the air. Georgie’s scream died in the explosion blast. Upon seeing this, most of the Italians decided to flee. Nobody had signed up for what looked like a crazy man in black who was sputtering nonsense and exploding shit as he made his way towards the Peaky Blinders.

“Holy fucking Jesus.” Jeremiah lowered his shotgun and looked at Tommy, obviously questioning his whole involvement in the cause. 

He never managed to say anything else because Alfie threw another grenade at what was left of Georgie’s car. Everything was blood and smoke now, the ringing in Tommy’s ears reminiscent of that fateful day in the tunnels. He couldn’t move and he couldn’t see, all he could do was feel like the whole world was spinning around him. He leaned on the nearest wall and tried to catch his breath. The last thing he remembered was a very familiar black coat wrapped around him and then… someone must have taken out their gun and point it at him from behind because through all that ringing and screaming Tommy heard a click behind his ear. Then, two strong hands pushed him down on the ground and the last thing he remembered was Alfie’s blood on his face. The bullet meant for Tommy must have gone through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty, so I thought I was done but then all of this happened and I honestly just can't take responsibility for Alfie Solomons anymore, HONESTLY. There will be part 3! Cheers!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're ready for the final FLUFF ATTACK! Many thanks for all your words of encouragement, especially @WTMA <3

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Nah, you’ve got three brothers. I’m sure that ain’t the wildest idea someone threw at you.”

“None of them are as mad as you.”

“Oh yeah? Not even the mustache one? Tell ya what, Tommy, if my story’s so stupid then why are you laughing?”

“Shut up, I’m not. Give me that.” Tommy forcibly took the half-full champagne bottle from Alfie and took a swig. Then he pushed the bottle straight to the other man’s lips.

“Nah, I’m good, mate.”

“Fuck you, drink with me. It’s a wedding!” Tommy pushed the bottle onto Alfie’s lap and smiled wickedly. Alfie rolled his only remaining eye and took a sip. Then another.

“Damn, that’s good champagne, innit?” He sighed.

“Hmm.” Tommy leaned back on the white tiled wall and patted his vest for cigarettes. “Only the best for my baby sister.”

Alfie chuckled and drank some more while Tommy lit his cigarette and passed it to Alfie to take a puff. He did.

“You’re a terrible influence, Thomas Shelby,” he murmured before letting the smoke out his nose.

“That I am.”

Alfie smirked and then laughed quietly to himself. Tommy gave him an impatient shove. 

“What?”

Alfie laughed louder just because he could and just because nobody laughed at Thomas fucking Shelby. Tommy inspected his cigarette, wondering if maybe Finn had laced it with something, as he would, the cheeky little devil. Turns out this were no drugs, just Alfie being himself. Tommy sighed in exasperation and took another swig from the champagne bottle. They’ve been sharing it for the past half hour. The other one, from the half hour before that, was lying empty on the bathroom floor.

“I just still can’t believe she stole yer girl, mate,” Alfie snorted, finally saying what was on his mind.

This time Tommy was the one who rolled his eyes and he was just about to come up with a snarky remark but the bathroom door flew open and in it stood the newly married bride herself. Judging by the fire in her eyes and the unruly curl in her previously carefully pinned up hair, she was not pleased.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Ada marched towards the bathroom window and opened it to let the air in. “It stinks in here!”

“Aye, love, well, I wanted to give yer brother a bath but then he said he took one last month so– Ow! What was that for?”

“All I wanted was my brother to make a decent toast, meanwhile he’s busy sitting with you in an empty bathtub, in his suit, like a lunatic!”

“Would you prefer us to have been wet and naked, love?” Alfie tugged on his tie jokingly and Ada barked in response.

“Ah. Seems we’ve been found out, sweetie.” Alfie winked at Tommy and tumbled out the bathtub. He found his shoes and exited the bathroom first. Before following him, Tommy glared at Ada coldly. She responded with a cheeky smile, the anger suddenly gone.

“And  _ scene _ ,” she said triumphantly. “Oh, stop pouting! Nobody said I was gonna play fair.” 

“At least don’t cockblock me like this,” he barked and threw the cigarette butt out the window into the garden, where the wedding party was now in full swing.

“Nah. You need to step up your game before midnight or that twenty quid’s mine.”

Tommy harrumphed and fixed his bowtie before putting on the jacket. He let Ada out the door first and they made their way downstairs.

“I was almost there,” Tommy barked.

“Yeah, try harder next time.” She took the cigarette case from him. Tommy sighed with pretend annoyance and offered her a match. “Y’know, you’re not exactly subtle when it comes to women and with him, you sure do take your sweet time. It’s been what, ten months?”

“Lower your voice, Ada.” Tommy looked around, not wanting the topic of this particular conversation to be known to the room full of socialites, friends, family and other people whose businesses he might plan to take over in the future. To his own embarrassment, while scanning the crowd for a minute there he found himself looking for that damned man. “Did you invite him just to make fun of him?”

“God, no! To make fun of you!” She gave him her brightest smile. “Besides, while you were busy roaming the country and wallowing in your pity–”

“Doing business, Ada.”

“Whatever, yes, so meanwhile I actually visited him at the hospital. Poor bloke was a mess.”

“Yeah, he’s good at that.” Tommy lit another cigarette. “Manipulating people.”

“Oh, look who’s talking!” She patted his shoulder. “There, there. I invited him because we are actual friends and… Thomas Shelby, don’t you roll your eyes at me!” She shook her head. “We exchanged letters, okay? Actual letters, beautiful handwriting, I still have them– Ouch!” Ada snickered again after Tommy poked her ribs. “Alright, you got me. He writes like a child and it’s bloody illegible in places but his stories are hilarious. And you were gone! I needed a friend.”

“You found May,” Tommy murmured, his tone not without a hint of blame.

“May is my wife, Tommy. She’s not my gal pal.” Ada smirked. “You left. Gone for almost a year. He asked about you, you know? In the letters.”

“Is that so?” He raised one brow and put the cigarette out. “How fuckin’ thoughtful.”

“All I’m sayin’, Tommy…” Ada sighed and waved her hand, trying to come up with the right word. Tommy was still there, though, which meant he actually wanted to listen. “The man took a bullet to the head for you. It doesn’t get more romantic than that.” She looked at him a little bit kinder now. “He actually lost an eye, what more do you want?”

“That was an accident,” Tommy growled.

“Accident my ass, John told me how it went down. He came there like a bloody hellhound, blowing everyone to pieces!”

“Are you saying he blew up half my street as an apology?” Tommy’s voice was so full of sarcasm that it was nearly dripping on the floor.

“Yeah. Exactly what I’m saying.” Ada smirked and put out her cigarette in the nearby exotic plant pot. “And you do like the eyepatch, admit it.” 

Tommy sneered and looked around again, this time spotting Alfie with ease. He was surrounded by a group of children of various ages, who obviously chose him as the target adult to participate in their crazy games. Alfie was not particularly fond of children, nor cats, and that’s probably why both of those just loved his company.

“It makes him look like a demented pirate,” Tommy growled, nearly ready to give up on this stupid bet. 

“But he  _ is  _ a mad pirate.” Ada tilted her head to the side. “Oh, God, that poor man. Excuse me, I have to rescue your bloody boyfriend from Esme’s spawn.” The kids were getting restless, so she left her brother to his own devices and went looking for her maid of honor. “Linda! Linda, can you take the kids to the garden?”

Tommy was left alone at the bar and figured it was time for the much-needed whiskey.

“Enjoying the party?”

_ Fuck. _

“Very much, yes.” He turned around and managed to look at May without a scowl. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“Ada invited you.” May took his whiskey glass from him and took a sip, her dark eyes daring him to challenge her. Unlike her wife’s gorgeous white gown, she was wearing a perfectly tailored suit and looked, Tommy had to begrudgingly admit, smokin’ hot. “You’re family, Tommy.” She grinned evilly. 

“Aye, that we are. Should I start calling you ‘sister’?” 

“If that’s what you want.” She tilted her head. “But I believe we can be civil enough to stay on the first-name basis, don’t you?”

“Hmm.” He ordered himself another whiskey and then watched her walk away, obviously immensely pleased with herself.

A couple of hours ago he had been hesitant whether he should drink at this party at all. Now he decided to get shit-faced. Seemed like he wasn’t the only Shelby there going through that exact same thought process. Polly was sipping her drink in the garden and trying to find someone to dance with but being a Shelby was never easy so instead of a partner, she was approached by someone she had spent the whole day avoiding.

“A little late in the evening for a dress with a cut like that, Polly, dear.” 

_ God fucking damn it _ , Polly thought as she smiled politely. 

“Hello, Amelia. Such wonderful weather for a garden party wedding, isn’t it?”

“Hmm.” The lady next to Polly leaned heavily on the wolf’s head cane and snorted. “I’d enjoy it more if my granddaughter was marrying a man.”

“No reason for making the same mistake twice,  _ dear. _ ” Polly sipped her drink with an evil smirk.

“I think I would have preferred your nephew out of the two.” Amelia pursed her lips. “A horrible man, to be sure, but at least we would’ve gotten children out of that one.”

Polly raised one eyebrow, keeping her composure and on the inside hexing that vile old bag to hell and back.

“Not too late yet, Amelia, our gypsy blood is strong with Ada.” She smiled wickedly. “There are potions for everything.” 

May’s grandmother gave her the most aggravated look Polly had ever seen.

“Well, I never!”

“I’m sure you haven’t, doesn’t mean it’s not fun. Good evening.” Holding up the hem of her gorgeous red gown, Polly retreated towards the bar.

“Oh, there you are!” Ada grabbed her hand as Polly made her way back to get a refill. “I need a drink. Have a drink with me, Pol.” The bride ordered them two rum shots.

“Everything alright?” Polly looked at her niece questioningly. “Do you need to sit?”

“No, it’s just Esme’s bloody kids.” Ada downed her rum quickly. “Love them to bits but they’re bloody  _ loud! _ ”

Polly snorted and clinked her glass with Ada’s empty one.

“I’ll drink to that.”

A comfortable silence fell between them until they both noticed Tommy, smoking and brooding in the distance. 

“God, that boy is bloody stupid for someone so sly,” Polly barked and ordered them another two rums. “Do you want to talk to him or is it my turn now?”

“I already did my bit. Didn’t help.”

“Well.” They clinked their glasses again. “Then it seems he’s just bloody clueless when it comes to love and clueless he’ll stay.”

Ada sighed and downed her drink, before taking another look around.

“Speaking of which, it’s almost time for toasts and I’m honestly scared of Linda’s.”

Polly looked at her questioningly.

“She means well.”

“Yeah, ‘course she does.” Ada sighed. “But you know I wanted you to be my maid of honor.”

“Don’t be a cunt, Ada,” Polly chastised her. “Linda loves you like a sister. And May doesn’t have any herself. She needed me at her side.”

“She has friends!”

“Does she?” Polly raised one eyebrow. “Look around you. Do you see any of them posh little twats actually congratulating her? They came to watch the spectacle and mingle among the gangsters. The only family member present is that old bitch who refuses to die.” Polly pointed towards the grandmother who was now trying to find May to no doubt ruin her mood.

“I’m sorry,” Ada murmured. “I didn’t mean to be ungrateful.”

“‘S alright. It’s your wedding. Today you reserve the right to be selfish.” Polly squeezed Ada’s hand and nodded encouragingly. “And whatever bullshit gospel you’re worried Linda saying… she won’t. Not tonight.”

“Why?”

“Because I asked her not to.” Polly smiled in a way that could either mean “I asked her not to” or “I threatened her with the life of her future unborn children and the family cat’s”.

Ada sighed with visible relief and squeezed Polly’s hand tighter.

“Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, darling.”

Contrary to Ada’s worries, the toasts went rather well, considering her brothers’ tendency to make rather unapologetic remarks about her choice in women. As expected, most jokes circled around Ada’s taste being similar to Tommy’s, which would have turned out a lot more humiliating for May had Alfie not made a scene by knocking down the champagne tray from one of the waiters.

_ Thank you _ , Ada mouthed to him as soon as the staff rushed to clean up the mess. Alfie just winked at her, a gesture he somehow managed even with the one remaining eye, before evacuating to the garden. He was not particularly interested in hearing the rest of John’s awkward speech.

“Leaving so soon?” 

Alfie turned around and gave Tommy one of the cheeky smiles that aggravated the other man so much.

“Yeah, actually I am.” 

“Back to London?” Tommy followed him unhurriedly.

“Why Tommy, you wanna join me?”

The grass under their shoes was slippery and smelled of oncoming summer rain. The band had moved to the house, so they were all alone now, just the two of them away from the party. Tommy figured it was now or never.

“In London? No.” He shook his head.

“Not London.” Alfie looked up and hummed to himself. “It’s gonna rain. Not a fan of driving in the rain.”

“Then where the fuck are you going?” Tommy threw his cigarette on the ground and before Alfie could produce any sort of answer, Tommy’s lips were on his and he was kissing him and this time Alfie was the one with million questions and mind turned to mush.

The kiss was hot and breathy, too harsh and too fast and they both loved it. Alfie’s hands grabbed Tommy’s hips, Tommy grabbed Alfie by the hair and pushed him further away from the house. They hid in the shadows and kissed until both their mouths started to tingle and Tommy’s cheeks felt raw from Alfie’s scratchy beard. Tommy pulled away first, though only slightly because Alfie was holding him so close that there was no way of him going anywhere at this point. They looked at each other but neither felt like talking. They stood together in a tight embrace until the rain finally fell down and they had to make a decision. 

“I really don’t want to go to London,” Tommy murmured into Alfie’s lips, before kissing him again. “I fuckin’ hate… fuckin’ London.” He kissed him a couple times more before resting his head on Alfie’s shoulder. 

“Good thing I ain’t livin’ there anymore, then.” Alfie chuckled and pulled Tommy as close as humanly possible. His shirt was getting uncomfortably wet and everything was blurry cause his only eye was not so sharp anymore either, but somehow none of that mattered because Tommy was in his arms once again and this time he was not going to fuck it up. 

Tommy raised his head and looked at Alfie questioningly, obviously outraged that he didn’t have all the necessary information on his former business partner. 

“What?”

“Yeah.” Alfie stroked Tommy’s wet hair and sighed. “Are you gonna keep me in this fuckin’ rain until I catch pneumonia or am I allowed to continue this conversation somewhere dryer?” 

Tommy chuckled into his neck and for a second it was like no time had passed from their first night together. 

“Yeah, come on.” Tommy led him back to the house, towards the back entrance by the kitchens. 

They left muddy footprints on their way upstairs, the topography of which Tommy was particularly familiar with. Alfie tried not to think about all that and instead concentrated on the fact that as far as he knew, he was the only man that Tommy wanted to sleep with for the second time. They entered the most secluded bedroom and Tommy locked the door behind them as quietly as possible. They stood motionless for a while, listening to the party downstairs. The room was dark, save for the fire crackling in the fireplace. The moment seemed to have passed, however, as neither of them was now brave enough to take the first step. 

“I’m gonna draw a bath,” Alfie said finally, removing his drenched shirt and shoes. “I’m fuckin’ cold.”

He went to the bathroom and purposefully left the door open, waiting for Tommy to join him. As cat-like as ever, Tommy took his time before doing so. Alfie was already naked and soaking in warm water with his eye closed when he heard a soft rustling and, shortly after, felt Tommy pushing him from behind to make room for himself. Alfie didn’t mind being held, so he leaned on Tommy and rested his head on his chest. They laid in warm soapy water and didn’t speak because neither really knew what to say. They shared cigarettes and kissed until the water turned cold. Not bothering with the towels, Tommy left the tub first. Then he took Alfie’s hand and led him to the bed, straight under the covers.

“Well, that was bloody stupid, wasn’t it?” Freezing again, Alfie took Tommy’s hands in his and blew on them to get them warm. “God, fuck! Take these feet back where they came from, or so help me, Tommy!”

Tommy chuckled evilly and pulled Alfie closer. He kissed him, slowly, savoring every second that wonderful fucking mouth was back on his. When kissing Alfie, Tommy finally felt something that he had been missing for the longest time. He missed that man, frankly, for some otherworldly reason. Alfie had the ability to make everything unimportant simply melt away. He was warm and he was kissing Tommy just like he wanted to be kissed. None of them minded taking their time like this. It was good, not having to hurry. They both were very powerful men now, Tommy figured, and this time they had all the time in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ladies and gentlemen, you've been a wonderful audience. Thank you and good night!


End file.
